“Yes, yes, I hope.”
“And I, in my turn, when shall I plant my bulb?”
“Oh, the first favourable day I will tell you; but, whatever you do, let nobody help you, and don’t confide your secret to any one in the world; do you see, a connoisseur by merely looking at the bulb would be able to distinguish its value; and so, my dearest Rosa, be careful in locking up the third sucker which remains to you.”
“It is still wrapped up in the same paper in which you put it, and just as you gave it me. I have laid it at the bottom of my chest under my point lace, which keeps it dry, without pressing upon it. But good night, my poor captive gentleman.”
“How? already?”
“It must be, it must be.”
“Coming so late and going so soon.”
“My father might grow impatient not seeing me return, and that precious lover might suspect a rival.”
Here she listened uneasily.
“What is it?” asked Van Baerle. “I thought I heard something.”